A Light That Never Goes Out
by the-most-creative-username
Summary: The war has been won at a heavy cost, and it is clear for all to see that Hermione isn't coping well. As far as Draco is concerned, as long as the ends justify the means, anything goes- though Hermione may not see things in the same way. Hermione doesn't see anything in the same way anymore, and she doesn't know who she can trust. Definitely not Draco, and definitely not The Order.
1. Chapter 1: St Mungos

Drying the last of the dishes, Hermione looked over the kitchen with a hollow satisfaction. She had spent the entire evening cleaning it, muggle style. There was a nice sense of routine to it, and it engaged her mind in a way that distracted her from her usual gloomy thoughts. She knew that everyone was worried about her, but since the end of the war, years ago, she just hadn't wanted to use magic for everyday things as much anymore. Magic had cost them all so much.

Turning off the lights, she recast half a dozen protective charms over the house, as was her routine every time she left a room. She felt a lot safer at Hogwarts than she did here, despite this being her home. Hermione made her way upstairs to her bedroom for a shower before bed, she didn't have the energy to do anything else today. Standing at her bedroom dresser, she took off her earrings and was about to slip out of her dress when she heard a floorboard creak. Spinning around, wand at the ready, her paranoid instincts kicked in. She positioned herself by the bed, in case she might need to grab the emergency portkey hidden inside her pillowcase. The room was empty. "Silly girl," she reprimanded herself, lowering her wand.

No sooner had she let her defences down did a figure spring from behind the bathroom doorframe, 'Dolor Exspuo!'

When Hermione awoke, Mrs Weasley was sat beside her hospital bed with a look of worry on her face. 'Hermione, dear, thank goodness you're awake!"

"Mrs Weasley, where am I?" Hermione asked. She knew this woman, she was kind, and caring, and she had looked after Hermione during her school holidays sometimes. But she wasn't quite sure how she knew her… perhaps she was an aunt? No, that couldn't be right, Hermione knew that her parents were muggles, and Mrs Weasley was a witch, like her.

"You're in St Mungo's dear."

St Mungo's. That was the magical hospital. She had been here several times before, it even looked familiar, but she wasn't sure why. "What happened to me?" she asked.

"You've had a bit of an accident, we don't know to what extent it has affected your-"

"My memory." Hermione interrupted.

"Yes, dear." Mrs Weasley said, sympathetically.

An elderly mediwitch pulled back the curtain around Hermione's bed. "Oh good, dearie, you're awake. You've been out cold for six days! What is the last thing you remember?"

"I was… I was cleaning my kitchen, and then I went upstairs, I was going to have a shower and go to bed early because my husband was working late and then… I don't remember anything after that."

"I see, I see. What year is it, dearie?"

"2003." Hermione answered, sure of herself.

"Very good. And how old are you?

"24 years old."

"Excellent"

"Do you remember where you went to school?"

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I work now. I was in Gryffindor, with my best friends, Lavender and Parvati."

Mrs Weasley raised an eyebrow. "And was school… eventful?"

"Not really," Hermione said, puzzled at the odd question. "I think… I think I took some of my exams late, I guess I was unwell in my final year. I can't quite recall."

Mrs Weasley and the mediwitch exchanged worried glances.

"And what have you done since school?" The mediwitch asked, her tone suddenly a lot less optimistic.

"I work at Hogwarts as an assistant professor of muggle studies. My husband works at the Ministry as an Auror."

"Well," said the mediwitch, "I think this is a case of selective memory erasure."

"As a result of the bump you had on your head," Molly added.

"Yes, of course, the bump," the mediwitch confirmed.

Hermione felt patronised, and suddenly very vulnerable. "Where is my husband, please? I want my husband," she requested.

"He's been by your side almost every minute, but he was summoned by The Order just this morning due to an emergency."

"What's The Order?" Hermione queried.

"Oh dearie. I think it best that we wait until your husband returns to explain things. In the meantime, I'll bring you some dinner, Mrs Malfoy."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled politely.

* * *

AN: This is the first thing I've written, so feedback is very welcome. I've got some direction in mind for the rest of the story, but am genuinely open to suggestions in terms of where the plot goes. I know that I'm not an incredible writer but I hope that continuing to write will improve that :) xxx


	2. Chapter 2: Dark Wizards?

"She's been asleep all morning. Sleeping quite peacefully, for a change." Draco said softly, as Molly shuffled through the curtain and into Hermione's corner of the ward.

"Poor girl, have you any idea who breached the security at the Manor? Or what spell was used?"

Draco locked eyes with Molly. "Still working on that mystery..." he said quietly, staring her down.

"I'm simply surprised that the wards put up by the best Auror in the Ministry and the brightest witch of a generation were surpassed." Molly snubbed.

"Well, she hadn't been in the Manor for so long. Someone must have gotten in before she arrived back from Hogwarts. I don't bother with all that stuff when I'm home by myself. It isn't necessary, she's just paranoid," Draco defended.

"Clearly it was necessary, Draco. Or was it?" Molly accused.

"What do you mean?"

"Who would have the motive to cast such a spell upon Hermione? Who would even have the knowledge of such dark magic?"

"I'm not sure but whoever-"

"Who, other than yourself?" She demanded.

Draco needed not say a word. It was written all over his face. He had been found out. He clenched his jaw and turned to look out of the window, unable to meet Molly's gaze.

"What were you thinking?" she hissed. "She could have been badly hurt!"

"I'd never have let anything happen to her, I wouldn't have used a spell that I didn't understand. There was no room for error. This will help her." He said confidently, offended that the witch would suggest that he had acted carelessly.

"Paranoia was taking over her life to begin with, how will having been attacked in her own home help her?"

"She won't remember being attacked. She won't remember anything bad at all. The charm has removed all of her troubling memories," he admitted. "No more nightmares every night, no more weeks of refusing to leave Hogwarts, no more crying herself to sleep at night over all that she lost in the war. Molly, I couldn't bear to see her hurt so much. She'll know that there are things that she's forgotten, but she'll be happier living with memory loss than with those lost memories haunting and depressing her."

"You attacked her in your own home, shame on you Draco!" Molly protested, turning red in anger.

"Not as far as she knows. The mediwitch said that she believes that she bumped her head, it's a plausible story that I will stick with, and that you will stick with too," Draco insisted, lowering his tone as Hermione moved ever so slightly in her sleep.

"Once a dark wizard, ever a dark wizard" Molly accused hotly.

Draco was taken aback, genuinely hurt by the suggestion that he had acted in malice and still retained nefarous motives, especially by Molly, after all he had done to protect her family during the war. It was even more insulting than the insinuation that he had been reckless with his use of magic. Molly had overstepped a boundary. Draco had proven his allegiance to The Order beyond question. Even Molly knew that she had spoken out of line, but couldn't bring herself to take back her words. Unquestionably, Draco was acting in what he thought to be Hermione's best interests, but considering the young witch's stance on magic, particularly dark magic, she was incensed that he had exposed her directly to it without her permission.

Feeling his temper rise, Draco stalked out of the room, venom in his glare as he passed the Weasley matriarch. Molly huffed loudly, sitting herself down beside Hermione protectively.

Hermione kept her eyes closed, continuing to pretend to be asleep. Her mind was spinning out of control in panic. Her husband was a dark wizard? And he had just confessed to having attacked her? Empty memories started to flood Hermione's mind. No content, just a rush of terror and a sense that she was in danger.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione heard the mediwitch ask. She maintained her rouse of sleep.

"Yes, yes, sorry," Molly said softly, "Draco had an understandably hard week, the pressure is somewhat getting to him, I'm sure he has just gone to clear his head."

"Well he'll be relieved to know that Mrs Malfoy is free to return home today. We'll have her back for a check up, but until we can identify the dark magic used to wipe her memory, we can't do much more."

"Being home might do her well," Molly resigned, although she didn't want to release Hermione to Draco's guardianship.

Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place in Hermione's mind. Draco had done this to her, and now she was to be sent home with him unless she could plot her escape. She didn't know who 'The Order' were but she could vaguely remember that a group of dark wizards had tried to overthrow the Ministry. For the life in her, she couldn't remember what had happened past that, other than that she had played an important part in the troubles that followed. Was that why her husband had wiped her memory? Had he been a dark wizard all along? There was only one thing that Hermione was sure of: Draco Malfoy could not be trusted.

* * *

AN: Thank you to coddiwomple for helping me with my characterisation of Draco, all will be revealed, there is a _tonne_ of backstory here. Reviews always warmly welcome! xxx


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